


If Only in My Dreams...

by clgfanfic



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene and tag from "Home for Christmas"</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only in My Dreams...

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine The Yule Tide #1 and later in Boss And Bodacious: Special Collection #1 under the pen name Laura Cathcart.

Nick Ryder felt the insistent squeeze of a concerned hand on his shoulder, but he waited until Ben Wilkenson disappeared around the corner of the auditorium hallway before turning to face his friend.

Cody’s blue eyes narrowed.  "Hey, Nick, you feeling okay?"

Ryder forced a smile to dispel his friend's concern.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  It's just Ben.  He's– He's taking it hard, you know?"

The blond glanced down the now empty hallway, his sympathy clear.  "I don't blame him.  I mean, after the way the Army jerked him around, this is a little late."

Nick nodded.  It had taken them nearly a week, but at least Ben knew the truth.  His son was dead.  He had died a hero, but that was cold comfort for the older man now all alone in the world.

"What now?" Cody asked, leaving his hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Now I go back to Wyoming and finish what I started – a funeral."

Cody stepped around to stand face to face with his friend.  "Nick, are you sure?  I mean, your cold's getting worse, and–"

Ryder's blue eyes flickered down.  He couldn't be talked out of this.  "I have to do it, Cody."

Murray walked up, a concerned gaze sweeping over both men.  "Something wrong?"

Cody shook his head and squeezed Nick's shoulder, letting Ryder know he did understand and supported his decision.

Nick sniffed and tried to roll some of the stiffness out of his shoulders.

"But before you head east, we're getting some food into you," Cody said.

"Yeah," Nick agreed.  "I am a little hungry."

"You know, Nick," Murray said, stepping in next to the two men as they departed.  "I've seen some pretty spectacular recoveries prompted by chicken soup…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Standing stiffly in the bitter cold of a Wyoming morning, Nick listened to the last sad notes of retreat waver across the snow-covered cemetery.  Ben shuffled off, his head down, clutching the carefully folded American flag close to his chest.

          Private Richard Allen Wilkenson was finally home – and so was Captain Vic Harper.  Their bodies were now laid to rest where they belonged, but the memories of their lives and deaths would not be so easily quelled.

Deep in Nick's too-cold muscles the ache that had haunted him for the last several days flared, making the morning even more miserable.  He coughed, wincing as he felt the tearing in his lungs.

Cody was right.  His cold was getting worse.

He shivered.  Several large, wet snowflakes drifted down, and the soldiers shifted slightly, reminding Nick that it was time they found some warm shelter.

"Attention!" Ryder called in a raspy voice.

The soldiers obeyed.

"Detail… dismissed!"

The men executed a uniform about-face and headed immediately for the small funeral home or a few waiting cars.  Nick followed Phil Resnick, the funeral director, into the building, accepting a proffered cup of coffee from one of his assistants.

"Thanks," he said, pulling off his black gloves and wrapping his cold fingers around the warm cup.  As soon as the feeling returned in his digits he took a sip.

"Feeling poorly, Captain?" Phil asked.

Nick smiled indulgently.  "Just a cold.  Guess I'm not used to snow."

Phil nodded sagely.  "Best get some chicken soup and spend a couple days in bed.  Should get you fixed up before Christmas."

"I'll do that," Nick said.  "As soon as I get home."  He glanced around, hoping to find Ben.  "Uh, Mr. Resnick, do you think Ben'll show up here?"

Phil thought a moment, rubbing a thumb along his ample jawline.  "I don't know, Captain, but I doubt it.  I'd try his home."

"I'll do that," Nick said, draining the coffee and returning the empty cup to the assistant.

"When are you leaving, Captain?" the funeral director asked.

"This evening," Nick said.  "I just wanted to say goodbye to Ben before the flight."

Resnick extended his hand.  "Well, since you're leaving, let me just say thank you for all you did.  I'm sure Ben appreciated it, too."

Nick shook the man's hand.  "I'm just sorry it took so long."

"Well, sometimes the Army just works that way.  I know."

"Maybe so."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick knocked again.

No response.

He took a step back, looking up at the dark house.  If Ben was there, he obviously did not want to be bothered.

Shrugging deeper into his wool coat, Nick sniffled and coughed again.  He checked his watch.  It was time he got to the airfield.  Turning, he walked back down to where a taxi waited for him.

"Nobody home?" the driver asked conversationally.

"No," Nick said, easing into the back seat and closing the car door.  "I guess not."

"Where to?"

"Airfield," Nick said, letting his eyes drop closed.  The burning dull ache throbbed along his muscles, making every position he tried uncomfortable.  With a sigh, he settled in to endure the short trip.

"Ya know, a bowl of Martha's chicken soup would probably fix you right up…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick checked in, accepting the news that his flight was running about twenty minutes late with a grunt.  Signing his name, he handed his flight bag off to the sergeant and headed into the waiting area to see if they had a coffee machine.

Ben stood next to the large silver pot, resting on a well-stained folding table.  He smiled.  "Thought I was going to miss you."

Nick smiled, honestly glad to see the older man.  "Me, too."

Ben glanced away, an embarrassed blush reddening his already cold-rosy cheeks.

"But I'm glad you didn't," Ryder added.  He waited while Ben poured a second cup of coffee and handed it over.  "You going to be okay?"

Ben hesitated, clearly considering the question.  "Oh, yeah," he finally replied. "I'll be fine.  Not today, maybe tomorrow… or the next day."

Nick nodded, adding hesitantly, "I hope you'll, uh, stay in touch?"

Ben looked back to Nick, his expression unreadable.  "Uh, yeah, yeah, sure, I'll do that."

"Good."  Nick filled the uncomfortable silence by securing a second cup of the old coffee.

"Got any special plans for Christmas?" Ben asked, making small talk.

Nick shrugged.  "Not really.  Cody and Murray'll have something cooked up.  They usually do.  I just go along and try to keep them out of trouble."

They each walked over to sit down on the metal folding chairs.

"Not much for the Holidays, huh?"

Nick glanced up at the older man.  He debated a moment before he replied, "No. My dad took off on Christmas.  I was twelve, I guess.  It hit mom pretty hard.  She couldn't afford presents, us kids didn't understand…"  He smiled, trying to lighten the comment.  "It just made it a hard time for a lot of years."

"Ah," Ben said, nodding.  "I can see how that might be the case."

Nick set the half-empty coffee cup down on an empty chair, deciding his already cranky stomach didn't need the additional battery acid.

"Between that and losing a lot of friends in 'Nam over the Holidays, it's taken some of the magic away, I guess.  But," he added.  "I'm glad I could help clear this up."

"Me, too.  And I'm sure Ricky would feel the same.  You're a good man, Nick Ryder."

Nick accepted Ben's proffered had, then took a step closer, giving the older man a quick hug.  "Take care, Ben."

"I will.  You do the same."

Nick nodded.

"Captain Ryder," a young private interrupted.  "Your plane's ready, sir."

"Thanks," Nick replied, then shook Ben's hand again.  "Give me a call sometime."

"I'll do that," Ben said, forcing a smile.  "Merry Christmas, Nick."

"Merry Christmas, Ben," he said, then turned and followed the private to his waiting trip home.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Settling into the web seat, Nick silently cursed the Army.  Why couldn't they just pop for a commercial flight?  It wouldn't have been _that_ much.  The Air Force was next on his list.  It was their flight he was forced to take.

Though he had to admit, finding an open seat on a commercial flight on December 23rd might have been a little difficult.

With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to the bumpy flight.  A few hours and he'd be home, and then he could crawl into bed and die.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Murray stood at a glass wall, watching the small Air Force transport plane circle and land.  "Hey, Cody, I think this is it."

The blond detective pushed himself off the hard plastic couch and walked over to join the Boz.  "Yep, looks right."

"Do you think Nick'll be in more of a Christmas mood?" Murray asked hopefully.

Cody fought back a grin.  Murray loved Christmas, but Nick didn't, and with everything that had happened…  "I don't know, Murray.  I think we'll just have to play it by ear and see how he's feeling."

"Okay," Murray agreed.  "I put the Chipmunks' tape down in my room, so I won't play it where Nick can hear it."

Cody patted his friend's shoulder.  "I think that's a great idea."

"There's Nick!"

Cody looked, watching his friend emerge from the plane and start toward the flight office.  One step.  Two.  Nick paused, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.  He started off again, staggering slightly.

"Must've been a heck of a flight," Cody muttered under his breath, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true.  Something else was wrong.

The two men moved to the door, meeting Nick as he stepped inside.  "Hey, buddy, how are you doing?" Cody asked.

Nick met his partner's concerned gaze, giving him a tired smile.  "Okay.  But it's good to be home, ya know?"

Cody nodded, making a quick examination while Murray relieved Nick of his flight bag.  Ryder's complexion was pale, he sported dark circles under his eyes, and a sweat-sheen made his face shine.

Chest burning and every cough feeling like someone was trying to rip his lungs out, Nick hacked and swallowed a moan.

"That doesn't sound okay to me, Nick," Cody half-scolded.  "Why don't you sit down for a minute?"

Nick nodded his agreement, escalating Cody's concern.

Taking a step forward, Nick stopped, blinking.  His shoulders shook as a chill swept over him.

"Come on, Nick," Cody encouraged.  "Sit down."

Allowing Cody to take his arm, Nick tried to follow the blond to the plastic chairs, but his sense of balance and sight deserted him simultaneously and his knees gave way.  Nick's last thought was how stupid he was going to look when he hit the floor – face first.

Cody felt Nick go limp and lunged forward to break his friend's fall.  Catching Nick's shoulders, he let the momentum carry them both to the floor.

"Cody?" Murray asked, immediately hovering above the pair.  "Cody, what's wrong?"

"Call an ambulance," the blond instructed, noticing the waves of fever-heat pouring off his unconscious friend.

Murray nodded, dropping the flight bag and scurrying off.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody stood at a large dust-coated window, looking out at the quiet Army post beyond.  It would be dark soon, the sun just disappearing behind the low hills that blocked a view of the Pacific.  He sipped absently at the almost cold coffee, wrinkling his nose at the Styrofoam aftertaste.

Abandoning the cup in an empty trash can, he paced across the small room and took up a position at another window.  Beyond the glass several young soldiers laughed as they walked toward the enlisted men's club.  Across the street a young lieutenant bent to straighten her son's sweater.  The boy fussed, but didn't cry.  An MP jeep cruised by, the two men looking almost bored.

Everything was normal.

Normal…  Cody considered the word.  Normal would be he and Nick and Murray back at the _Riptide_ , arguing about the Chipmunks singing Christmas carols and whether or not computer chips constituted appropriate Christmas tree ornaments.

Normal would be waking up on Christmas morning and finding Nick already up and cooking breakfast for them.

God, how he wished everything was normal.

Turning, he almost bumped into Murray.  "Sorry," he apologized automatically.

The thin hacker nodded, extending a hand to Cody's shoulder.  "He'll be okay."

The blond head dipped.  "Yeah."

"Cody Allen?"

The two men turned.  A middle-aged man dressed in an Army uniform and white coat waited.

"I'm Allen."

The man nodded.  "I'm Dr. Richardson.  I'll be Captain Ryder's primary physician."

"How is he?" Murray asked, immediately stalking off to confront the doctor.

"It's really too early for me to say."

"What's wrong with him?" Cody asked, joining Murray.

The doctor left them, walking over to the coffee machine and pouring himself a cup before gesturing to the pair.

"No, thanks," Cody said.

Murray shook his head.

Adding a generous load of sugar, Richardson stirred, then walked back to an over-stuffed sofa and sat down.  Cody and Murray followed, sitting on two of the chairs.

"Captain Ryder's suffering from a pretty well-advanced case of lobar pneumonia.  We're hoping that the antibiotics we have him on now will keep it from developing in both lungs."

"Pneumonia?" Murray echoed, forcing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.  "That's very dangerous."

Richardson nodded as he sipped.  "But with the right treatment and close monitoring, he should be fine."

"You're sure?" Cody asked.

"Reasonably.  There can be complications, but we're going to be watching him closely until the fever breaks."

"Can we see him?" Cody asked.

"Not tonight.  He's exhausted, and the fever's making reality a little tenuous.  Stop back in the morning and we'll see."

Cody huffed, his gaze catching Murray's.

The Boz nodded.

Cody's lips disappeared into a thin line of resignation.  The hacker was probably right.  Why argue and piss off the man who was going to be helping Nick.  Still…

"Thank you," Murray said quickly, heading off any argument from Cody.  He extended his hand to Richardson.

The doctor shook it.  "I'm afraid Captain Ryder's not going to make it home for Christmas.  Is there any family I–"

"Just us," Cody interrupted, meeting the physician's gaze to drive home the point.  "And we can bring Christmas to him."

" _When_ he's up to it," Richardson added.  "I'll make sure you'll get a call if there's any change in his condition."

"We appreciate that," Murray said.

"Yeah," Cody added.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody and Murray's entry into the _Riptide's_ salon was accompanied by the first jangle of the phone.  He side-stepped the table and grabbed the receiver on the third ring.  "Allen."

"Ah, Cody, is Nick there?"

"Ben?" the blond asked, recognizing the older man's voice.

"Yeah, it's me.  I know it's, well, sort of soon, but–"

Cody met Murray's troubled gaze.  "Uh, Ben, Nick's not here."

"Oh.  All right, I thought his flight'd be there by now, but I guess even the military's a little slow around the Holidays.  When Nick gets in could you ask him–"

"Ben," Cody interrupted.  "Nick's in the hospital."

"Hospital?"

"He passed out as soon as he walked off the plane.  The doctor says he's got a pretty bad case of pneumonia."

"Pneu–?  I'll be there.  Tomorrow."

"Ben, look, it's–"

"I'll be there."

"Okay," Cody said with an only half-hidden sigh.  "Give me a call when you get here and Murray and I'll pick you up."

"I'll do that."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Cody?  Murray?"

Cody drained his coffee cup, then stood, heading for the salon door.  Pulling it open, he leaned out to look up the slip.  "Ben?"

The older man climbed on board.

"How'd you get here?" Allen asked.

Ben waved his hand, dismissing the feat.  "Oh, that worthless senator of mine.  I called him up and told him to get me out here or I'd go to the newspaper and tell them exactly what happened to my son."

"I see he took you seriously," Cody said, watching a limo pull out of the slip area.

"You bet he did, because I would have.  Now, how's Nick?"

Cody offered the man a thin smile.  "The doctor told us to come back this morning.  You can drop your bag off down below, and then we'll go."

Ben glanced down at the small suitcase he was holding.  "Yeah, okay."  He looked back up at Cody.  "Helluva way to be spending Christmas Eve, isn't it."

Cody nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dr. Richardson joined the three anxious men at the nurse's station, his expression somber.

Cody took a step closer to the physician.  "How's Nick?  Can we see him?"

Richardson was thoughtful for a moment.  "Okay, but just one, and no more than ten minutes.  His fever's still up, and he's weak."

Cody swallowed hard to keep from asking more questions.

"He's in ICU, room seven."  Richardson pointed to the western corridor.

Cody glanced quickly at Ben and Murray, seeing that they approved of him making the visit.  "I'll be back in a few."

Murray took a tentative step forward.  "Cody, tell Nic – Tell him we're… thinking about him, okay?"

"I will," Cody said softly, giving the Boz's arm a quick squeeze.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Pushing the door open, Cody stepped into the dimly lit room.  An overcast sky left the off-white wall looking gray.  Several monitors beeped and buzzed, keeping track of all Nick's vital functions.

Cody walked quietly to the foot of the bed.  Nick lay still, his face slightly flushed.  A tube provided oxygen, but it could not quite erase the quiet wheezing.

"Nick?"

Blue eyes fluttered open, and Ryder smiled weakly.  "Hey."

"How're you feeling?" Cody asked.

"About the same as I look."

"That bad?"

The dark head nodded.

"Hey, Murray's outside, but they said just one of us could come in."

"Tell him I'm okay."

"I will," Cody said, stepping closer to the head of the bed.  "Ben's here, too," he added softly.

"Ben?  Why?"

"He called yesterday.  I told him you were in the hospital."

Nick's eyes dropped closed.  "Damn, Cody, there's no reason–"

"I know," the blond interrupted and Nick's eyes opened again.  "I do.  I just– I was upset, and… I fucked up.  But he's here, and he's worried, but he's doing okay."

"Keep an eye on him for me."

"I will."

Taking another step, Cody was at the head of the narrow bed.  Reaching out, he rested a hand lightly on Nick's.  "Don't _you_ worry about him.  Just get well, okay?"

"Yeah," Nick wheezed.

"I tell you, I'll be, uh, pretty damned mad if you do something stupid like check out on me on Christmas, you know?"

Nick looked up, meeting his friend's concerned gaze.  "I'm not going anywhere.  They've got me pumped full of antibiotics, and who knows what else."

Cody nodded, his hand squeezing.

Nick grinned.  "I know.  I'll be home before you know it."

Cody studied the wrinkles in Nick's blanket as he said, "I guess you just had me a little scared."

"Cody?"

Allen glanced up.  "Yeah?"

"You're not gonna get mushy now, are you?"

Cody's moist eyes widened.  "Who?  Me?  Of course not," he said, but his voice was deeper than usual.

"I didn't think so."

"You going to say something like that?"

Nick rolled his head from side to side.  "Not a chance.  You'd never let me forget it."

The blond grinned in spite of himself.  "You've got that right."  He allowed his hand to move to Nick's shoulder and squeezed.  "So you just hang in there, okay?"  His voice was low and thick.

"You got it."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Nick Ryder.  Oh, and Murray wanted you to know that we're holding Christmas for you, Chipmunks and all."

Nick groaned.

"I thought you'd appreciate it."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Christmas morning found the three men camped out in the waiting room.  Cody sat near one corner, staring at the Christmas tree he'd somehow missed on earlier visits.

About three feet tall, the small pine filled the corner with a sweet smell that covered the usual hospital odors.  Tiny white lights flicked on and off, reflecting off the various glass balls that decorated the branches.

With each reflection, memories flashed through Cody's mind, filling up a patchwork of his friendship with Nick.  There were so many facets it caught him unaware.  He smiled to himself and shook his head.

"Cody?"

"I'm okay, Murray," he said, gesturing for the hacker to sit down.  "Just thinking about… you know."

"Yeah," he replied.  "Me, too."

"You two boys look like a couple of heifers giving sour milk," Ben said, walking over to join them.  "You have to have faith.  Nick's going to be just fine.  You wait and see."

Murray steadfastly studied his sneakers as he replied.  "I– I don't want to sound… unkind, but after what happened with Ricky…"

"I know," Ben said.  "I know.  But I had to keep my faith.  He was my son.  I couldn't look at the situation and judge it… realistically, but here I can.  Nick's young, strong, stubborn."

The two detectives chuckled.

"He'll pull through this."

"You're absolutely right."

Cody and Murray stood.  Dr. Richardson smiled.  "Captain Ryder's fever peaked last night, and it's down to one-hundred this morning.  His chest is clearing, and he's breathing easier."

Cody smiled broadly, and extended his hand to Richardson.  "That's the best Christmas present we could've gotten, Doctor."

"Well, then," the physician replied.  "I hope you were good this year."

"We're always good," Murray informed the man seriously.

"Can we see him?" Cody asked.

Richardson considered the request.  "Okay, but one at a time, and just for a couple of minutes.  He's still weak, and a little disorientated."

"Two minutes," Cody echoed back.

"Same room."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Murray went in first, while Ben and Cody waited in the hall.  He returned exactly two minutes later, grinning brightly.

"Well?" Cody asked.  "How is he?"

"Fine," Murray said.  "But he was getting mad at me for counting down the time in ten second intervals.  He just couldn't understand that I was following the doctor's orders."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Cody said, trying not to laugh.

"Good, good.  I mean I don't think he was really mad–"

Ben nodded sagely, a smile lighting his eyes.  "Come on, Murray," he said.  "Let's get a cup of coffee while Cody goes in."

"Oh– Oh, okay."

"We'll be back in a couple of minutes," Ben told Cody as he steered Murray off.

Cody pushed the door open and stepped inside.  Nick blinked and gave him a tired wave. 

"Hi ya, buddy," Cody said.

"Hi yourself.  I hear the doctor's got you on a timer."

"Something like that.  You know how Murray is."

"Literal."

Cody nodded.  "You look better."

"I feel better… sort of," Nick said, his words slurring slightly.  "Still a little woozy."

"The drugs." 

"Guess so…"

Cody stepped up to closer to Nick, then reached out, wrapping his fingers over the top of his friend's shoulder.  "Thanks," he whispered.

"For what?" Nick mumbled, his eyes dropping closed.

"For the great Christmas present."

"Wha–?"

"You, you dummy.  Thanks for hanging in there."

"Don't mention it," Nick slurred, his head rolling to one side.

Cody shook his head, grinning.  "Get some sleep, Buddy.  We'll be here later."

"Okay," was the almost unintelligible reply.

Leaving Nick to his nap, Cody stepped back into the hall.  Ben and Murray were waiting for him, the Boz holding a second cup of coffee.

"He dozed off," Cody said, his voice automatically pitched at a whisper.

Ben glanced longingly at the closed door.

Cody saw the pain cross the older man's face.  Accepting the coffee, he added, "But I'll bet the doctor won't mind if you look in on him."

Ben smiled.  "I'll keep it short."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The door moaned slightly as it closed.  Nick blinked, blue eyes owl-like, but unfocused.  "Dad?" he asked.

"It's okay, son," Ben said.  Moving quickly to the bedside.  "It's just me."

Nick's eyes opened wider and he blinked hard a couple of times. 

"Nick?" Ben asked, growing uncomfortable with the man's careful scrutiny of the space behind his left shoulder.

"I'm fine," Ryder said, watching the smiling apparition of Ricky Wilkenson fade away.

"Glad to hear that.  I didn't come out here to go to another funeral, you know."

Nick rolled his head.  "Not a chance."

"Good."  Ben stood in silence for several moments, then added, "You know, Nick… I, uh…"

"Ben?"

"I just wanted to say that I know it really wasn't my place to come out here, and I think it would've been easier on Cody and Murray if I'd stayed home where I belong, but I guess I was feeling a little–"

"Like a dad?" Nick asked.

Ben nodded, his head down to hide the embarrassed blush that colored his cheeks.

"I'm glad you came."

Ben's head came back up.  "Really?"

"Yes," Nick said, his eyelids drooping slightly. 

"Me, too."  Ben grinned, then reached out and patted Nick's shoulder.  "It's funny, but I've been feeling like Ricky was, well, close."

"I'm sure he is," Nick said, wondering if he was dreaming the young man who was back, standing behind his father.  "Merry Christmas, Ben."

"Merry Christmas, Nick."

Ryder's eyes slipped closed and Ben waited until he was sure Nick was asleep before he walked quietly from the room.  Cody and Murray met him in the hallway.

"That man's father was a fool," the old man growled, then cleared his throat.

"Yeah," Cody agreed softly.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"But you still haven't told me why Murray didn't come with you," Nick complained as he followed Cody down the slip toward the _Riptide_.

"He's busy."

"Doing what?" Nick stopped.  "Wait.  Cody, wait!"

Allen stopped, then turned, putting his best innocent look firmly on his face.  "What?"

"What's he's doing?  You're both plotting something.  I know.  I can see it in your eyes."

Cody spread his arms, trying to placate his agitated friend.  "Now, Nick, what would we be doing?"

"Christmas!  You're planning to inflict Christmas on me!"  Nick took the necessary steps to close the space between them.  "That's it, isn't it!" he demanded.

"Uh–"

"Cody?" Murray's voice drifted over the quiet pier.  "Hurry up, the chicken soup is getting cold."

"Just a–"

"Alvin!"  The first bars of the Chipmunks singing "I'll be Home for Christmas" echoed out from behind the half-open salon door.

Cody looked to his partner, his expression pleading for understanding.

Nick grinned.  "Sounds like home to me," he said softly.


End file.
